The Captain grinned widely, but replied only by a more vigorous wave of the tattered ensign.
'Thinks a wonderful lot of his breath, don't he?' grumbled the Factor. 'Now, if it had been Angus, he'd have started in to talk 'way back at the mouth. He don't care if no one hears him. Talks just for the pleasure of letting his tongue work!'
The boat turned in mid-stream, slightly above the stage, then drew down cautiously, the captain bawling deep-toned commands, interlarded with epithets. Presently a rope swung uncoiling through the air. This was eagerly snatched at by the Factor. Then the boat was made fast and Dave stepped ashore, mail bag in hand.
McAuliffe gripped him by the arm at once. 'Now, then, Dave, let's have it!'
'What's the racket?' asked the other composedly, beating his legs. 'I tell you, Alf, it's ter'ble cold on the water this morning. The wind's a terror.'
'You derned old oyster!' spluttered the Factor. 'Open up your chin bag, and put us up to what's been going on.'
'It's wonderful cold for the time of year, sure. How's yourself, Alf?'
'Going to consumption for wanting to pound your head off. See here, Dave! What's been the latest south?'
'Quite a lot,' said Dave, imperturbably, drawing a big bundle of soiled newspapers from the buckskin bag.
'Let's hear,' cried McAuliffe, clutching the parcel hungrily.